


To Serve & Protect

by JWMelmoth



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Not Blaine or Klaine Friendly, Spies & Secret Agents, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JWMelmoth/pseuds/JWMelmoth
Summary: Agent Hummel is close to accomplishing his mission, but is told to get a move on; it’s time to finally close down on Anderson sr through his son Blaine. Personal costs be damned.





	1. To Serve & Protect

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on Tumblr in October 2013.

“Do you know why you’re here, agent Hummel?”  
  
Kurt arched an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Actually, no, I don’t. I already handed in my status report last week.” Before his superior could say anything, he continued. “And to be quite honest, between my constant trips to Lima and being summoned here, my cover at NYADA is wearing very thin.”  
  
“So is our patience,” the man opposite of him replied coldly. “The upper office is beginning to ask questions, Hummel. What can I tell them when they ask me why, after more than a year on this case, you don’t seem to be any closer on locating Anderson senior?”  
  
Kurt scoffed. “Well, you could tell them to stick their own job so I can do mine,” he replied. “I worked hard on creating my persona and integrating myself into the Lima community. These things take time. I recall you saying you wanted the best on this case. I am the best.”  
  
“There’s no need to get cocky, agent Hummel. We’re not the only ones eager to finally crack down on Anderson’s crime syndicate. The international associations keep offering to send in more men.”  
  
Kurt laughed without mirth. “Huh! Like _Smythe_?! Oh yeah, ‘cause that worked so well last time! Sebastian Smythe nearly ruined _everything_! He was as unsubtle as hell. He might as well just have come out and said: ’ _hey honey, wanna tell me where your dad is hiding while I fuck your brains out_?’ Blaine would have _never_ told him anything.”

His superior made a sour face. “I agree that the French have their own ways, which may not always be appropriate in a North-American setting. Our sources had led us to believe Anderson junior might have been sensitive to such an approach.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Which approach? The cheap pick-up lines or the part where he was nearly _blinded_?”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic. Agent Smythe was reprimanded for that.”   
  
Kurt huffed. “Good. He nearly made me blow my cover,” he commented. “After he awoke Blaine’s libido it took great personal sacrifice on my end to keep him interested in me.”

“Yes, I have read those status reports. We expected some kind of break-through after that.”

“Like I wrote in the report, I invited myself to his house but I couldn’t find any evidence or leads to his father’s whereabouts there. It has to come from him. Building trust like that takes time.” Kurt sighed. “Look, his immature tryst with the facebook guy set me back a lot. I couldn’t just continue like nothing happened, it would have been out of character. I had to put distance between us. But I almost have him there where I want him. His google searches show he’s actually thinking about proposing to me. It’s ridiculous, of course, but it does mean he wants to get back together and-”

“Yes. We want you to accept that proposal.”

Kurt blinked. “What? No! That would be absurd!”

“It would be the opportune moment to dig into his family background.”

“It would assassinate my credibility!” Kurt protested. “We’re not even a couple!”

“The upper office-”

“The upper office can chill the fuck out!” Kurt cut his boss off angrily. The man in front of him raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Please mind your language, agent Hummel. You may associate with teenagers on a daily basis, but that’s no reason to use their vocabulary.”

“Then stop treating me like a child and tell me why I am really here.” Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“Very well,” his superior replied, taking a manila envelope from a drawer in his desk. “We have reason to believe you are neglecting your mission.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt said, “Just because I try to maintain a credible-”

He broke off when his boss pulled a stack of black and white photographs out of the envelope and laid them out on the desk. They were slightly skewed as if taken from a far off angle, but there was no doubt of its subject. The man clarified it all the same, reading his data from a sheet in front of him.

“Adam Crawford, Caucasian, male, 22 years old, nationality: English, familiar background: father deceased, mother 45 diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, siblings: two, female, 23 and 17, all residing in Sussex, England. Sexual prefer-”

“You’re having me _followed_?!” Kurt interrupted, outraged at the invasion of his privacy.

“-preference: men,” the man continued. “With cases of this magnitude, all of our agents are under surveillance, agent Hummel. It’s for their own protection.” He turned back to his data. “Mr Crawford attends the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts and leads an extracurricular club called The Adam’s Apples. He has been associated with Agent K. Hummel both within his capacity as club leader as well as in a private setting off-campus.”

Kurt clenched his jaw. His own protection indeed. “So?”

“Who is this man? Is he an agent? Is he from the British secret service? Are you sharing confidential information?”

“He’s not a spy!” Kurt let out frustratedly. “He’s just a student! He has nothing to do with this case, he doesn’t know about me, okay!”

The man nodded as if this confirmed his suspicions. “Then you are wasting your time and the tax-payers’ money dallying with him, agent Hummel. It says here Mr Crawford frequently spends the night at your Bushwhick loft. You cannot allow yourself to become distracted.”

“I am NOT distracted. I know exactly what I’m doing!”

“Then give us something to show for it! A lead, anything to set us ahead. We are this close-” the man held his index finger and thumb closely together, “to another interference by the army. They still believe Anderson must be baited via Narcotics.”

Kurt felt sick. “Officer Clarington could have seriously damaged those kids’ health,” he said quietly, the fight leaving him. He knew his private life would have to be put on hold (again), or the people he had spent over a year protecting would be at risk. He gave the pictures a longing last look. “Alright. I’ll try it your way. But only if the rest of the cast is in, too. I’m not defending this ridiculous proposal on my own.”

“All of them will be informed and on your side.” Kurt’s boss had difficulty concealing a smug tilt of the lips. Kurt knew he had to be delighted about this turn of events. Deny it as he might; he had disliked Kurt from the day he met him. Kurt met prejudices where ever he went. It hadn’t stopped him from becoming the best at his trade.

“And I’m _not_ marrying this boy,” Kurt added. “If this thing blows up in my face because you are rushing me, I’m resigning. Either way, I’m pulling out before the wedding night.” If there was any chance of getting back with Adam after this case, he wanted to be able to do so with a clear conscience.


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt explains everything to Adam, but will he believe it?

Adam looked at Kurt from across the narrow table of the New York diner. Their coffees had gone cold. “So, what you’re telling me,” he said slowly, as if he was still processing Kurt’s revelation, “is that you’re _not_ a NYADA freshman from Lima, Ohio with an internship at Vogue.com, whose dream it is to be on Broadway one day, but that you are, in fact, a twenty-one year old secret agent employed by the government and you just single-handedly brought down the most important head of organised crime in the US since Al Capone through an undercover mission which required you to get engaged to Blaine?”

“Yes,” Kurt affirmed, giving him an expectant look.

“And your breaking up with me was mandatory as it was jeopardising the case?”

“Yes,” Kurt replied again, starting to feel nervous. He fiddled with the handle of his coffee mug. He wondered if he was really feeling like a teenager right now, or if he was experiencing character bleed.

“And now that the case is closed and the bad guys are in jail, you decided to stay on at NYADA because, despite never having sang a note in your life before this mission, you like it, and you want us to get back together.”

Kurt nodded.

Adam stayed silent for a moment. Kurt got even more nervous. He moved the salt and pepper shaker on the diner table from left to right and then set it back in the middle.

“So what do you say?” he asked finally, unable to bear the silence any longer. He looked up at Adam, who was grinning at him. His eyes shone with delight, and he shook his head softly, wrinkling his nose little.

“I’d say, that that’s the most far-fetched… (Kurt winced)…bizarre (Kurt bit his lip) …unrealistic (Kurt felt tears starting to gather in the corners of his eyes) …most _adorable_ apology I’ve ever heard, and I love it!” Adam said fondly, reaching for Kurt’s hand. “I love _you_.” He squeezed Kurt’s hand. “And I’m all aboard on this. If you promise me Blaine Anderson is over and done with this time-”

“Oh, he is. He most definitely is!” Kurt said quickly and without doubt.

“- then let’s try again. Why the hell not?”

Kurt laughed with relief. He would show Adam the actual proof later. For now, he just wanted to bask in that smile that lit up the entire diner, and feel like a teenager in love again. For real this time.


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is about to find out Kurt wasn’t kidding when he said he was working undercover.

Adam knocked, and as he waited, quickly pulled off his beanie and rand a hand through his hair. He hoped Kurt was at home- he hadn’t called that he was coming over, figuring it could be a surprise. Adam had brought him a little home-made present. If his boyfriend wasn’t there, he’d just leave it with the girls. The door opened. Adam beamed a smile at the man in the doorway, though it dimmed a little when he realised it wasn’t Kurt.

“Um, hello,” Adam said. “Is Kurt there?”

“Who’s asking?” the man replied. He was wearing a suit and a tie, which seemed out of place at the loft.

“Adam. I’m sorry, but who are you?” Adam asked. The man didn’t reply but held up his hand in a gesture that probably meant ‘hold on’, and shoved the door closed in Adam’s face.   
  
Frowning, Adam nudged it open again with a foot to peer inside. The loft… didn’t look like the loft anymore. The shaded lamps that Kurt had so carefully picked from second-hand markets to cast a cozy, indirect light in their livingroom had been replaced by a large construction floodlight, filling the room with a cold, white glare. The furniture was covered with plastic sheets and pushed to one side of the loft to make room for several office desks, currently occupied by more men in suits, using laptops. The room dividers were gone. Rachel’s part of the loft was filled with boxes and the curtains that had once warded Kurt’s bedroom from view were lying folded up next to his bed, which was one of the few pieces of furniture not covered in plastic sheets. An overnight bag stood next to it. Kurt was sitting by his dresser, looking over a stack of papers while he talked to someone on the phone. He was wearing grey slacks and a white buttondown shirt with a slim tie, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. A pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked at least five years older than the last time Adam had seen him.

The man from the door walked up to him, and Kurt stopped talking, covering his hand over the receiver. Adam strained to hear the conversation.

“– It’s alright, you can let him in.”

“But sir, he doesn’t have clearance–”

“He doesn’t _need_ clearance, Mannheim. The case is over. Let him in. And tell the others to take a break.”

“A break, sir?”

“Yeah. Just…go to the delhi down the street and have pretzels or whatever. It’s on me, okay? I want you guys out of here.” He took off his glasses and gave him a dismissive nod with his head and Adam was struck by the realisation that it was the most _un_ -Kurtish thing he had ever seen Kurt do.

The man nodded and briefly spoke to the other men at the desks before returning to the door. Adam stepped back and pretended he hadn’t been listening in.

“Mr Crawford? Mr Hummel will see you now.”

Adam mumbled his thanks and stepped into the loft. The other men gave him sideway glances while they closed their laptops and packed up their things, but none of them spoke to him. Adam looked down on the plate of self-baked cookies he had brought and wondered if the pilot light of his oven had gone out while he was baking, and everything after that was just a gas-induced delerium. He was roused from his thoughts by Kurt’s voice.

“-That’s all I can commit to right now. I’ll get back to you.” He hung up and looked up at Adam. A smile lit up his face and it was the first time since Adam arrived that he felt like he was seeing _Kurt_ again.

“Hey,” Kurt said softly.

“Hey,” Adam echoed. “Um. What happened to the loft?” He looked around, still not completely sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing.

Kurt shrugged. “Just wrapping up the case. Normally we’d do it at the main office but this space was already rented out for the month and it’s closer to NYADA.” He nodded at the overnight bag. “I’ll need to find a smaller place next month. Rachel and Santana have already been reassigned and it’s far too big to live in by myself.”

“Right,” Adam said, blinking. “The case.” He suddenly remembered their conversation from the coffee shop when Kurt explained why he had gotten engaged to his ex-boyfriend. He thought it had been a charming, be it elaborate, excuse for the way Kurt had treated him. He swallowed and tried to wrap his head around it all. The big headlines in the news. The Trial of the Century. The stripped loft. Rachel and Santana gone. Kurt and his… employees? Henchmen? Colleagues? wrapping up Project 'Locate Anderson Sr’. 

“So, when you were saying you were working as an undercover agent…” he started hesitantly, glancing at the papers on Kurt’s dresser. There were at least 5 passports among the pile, all with different crests on the cover. Adam recognised several European passes as well as the US one. “You were actually…” He flipped open a pass that had Kurt’s picture and declared him a citizen under the British crown by the name of Patrick Dawson. “… _not_ kidding?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Kurt said, sounding a little amused. He made no move to stop Adam as he went through the other passports. Alexander Lyadov. Willem van Leeuwen. Cesare Barsetti. Finally, Adam held up the American passport. _Kurt Hummel._

“So which of these is your actual name?” Adam asked. He was looking at the man in front of him and suddenly wondered if he knew him at all.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Kurt joked. It broke the tension and Adam laughed. Kurt laughed with him. Then his expression grew serious. “It’s Kurt. It really is. I use my own name for cases where a delayed reaction to the wrong name can be fatal.”

“Fatal?” Adam echoed. He felt his insides plummet. “Was it really that dangerous?”

Kurt shrugged. “Some bits were. Most of it was just biding my time, really. It can get quite boring undercover.”

Adam cocked his head. “So…does that make me your after-work entertainment then?” He couldn’t help it- it stung a bit to hear his regular life of classes and coffee dates, the life he thought both he and Kurt enjoyed, be described as 'boring’.

“No! No, of course not,” Kurt said quickly. “You were much more than that. You _are_ much more. That’s why I’m still here. Why I’m staying. I don’t want that part of my life to be over now just because the job is.”

“I thought you said you wanted to stay at NYADA,” Adam said.

“I do. I love it there. But a big part of that is because of you.” Kurt stepped closer. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Adam. I understand that it’s a lot to take in.”

Adam looked down on the passport while he sorted his feelings. “It is a bit of a shock, I’ll admit that,” he confessed. He avoided Kurt’s eyes and studied the picture for a moment. “Here I was thinking I was dating this cute _younger_ guy, when actually, you’re 21!”

Kurt gasped in outrage and then stuck out his tongue. “I’m still younger than you, you perv.”

Adam laughed and dropped the passport on the pile with the others. “It _does_ help a lot knowing that your feelings for Blaine were part of the job…” he admitted. 

“They were,” Kurt assured him. “Really. He’s not my type at all.” His mouth curled up into a sly smile and he took another step closer until he was right in front of Adam. “I prefer my men tall and carrying baked goods.”

“Oh really?” Adam replied, now grinning. “What a coincidence…”

“Mmm…” Kurt’s hand brushed down Adam’s arm towards the plate.

“Maybe the suits will bring you back a pretzel,” Adam teased, stepping out of Kurt’s reach. He wasn’t quite ready processing everything yet, and Kurt’s proximity was distracting. He looked around at the loft. “So…what’s it like living a double-life?”

Kurt looked at Adam, following his eyes around the place and remembering the place of the things Adam was probably seeing in his mind’s eye that were now gone: the couch where they first kissed, the kitchen table (handy surface for more shenanigans than Rachel would have found sanitary)… It seemed very finite in the hard light. Like a fairytale from another world.

“It’s hard,” he replied. “Your life isn’t really yours, even though you have to live it. Everyone has a say in it- the government, international organisations. There are reports to be made, decisions to be accounted for.  It’s lonely. The risk of someone from your past recognising you and blowing your cover makes it almost impossible to stay in contact with people from previous jobs and at the same time, you need to keep new people you meet at a distance because you have to lie to them about who you are- and if you do tell them the truth, they tend leave you. No one likes being lied to, I guess.”

Adam’s shoulders pulled together tightly. Kurt could see the tension in his back. “So that has happened in the past?” Adam asked, not looking at Kurt.

“Yes.”

“A lot?”

“More than I’d like, but not enough to stop me from wanting to get to know you,” Kurt replied matter-of-factly. He paused.

Adam turned to face him again. “I’m not going to leave,” he stated. “But I still have a lot of questions.”

“Fair enough,” Kurt said, but relief softened the expression in his eyes. “Wat do you want to know?”

Adam smiled. “Do you own a gun?”

Kurt grinned. “Yeah.”

“License to kill and all that?”

“Sort of.”

“Do you carry it?”

“Not when I don’t have to.”

“Do you have a special car that does tricks? Or a watch with a built in parachute? Poison darts in your cufflinks?”

Kurt laughed. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

Adam’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Have a cookie. I’m just getting warmed up.”


End file.
